


She burns with fury

by malsseong



Category: Amar a Muerte
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-26
Updated: 2019-01-26
Packaged: 2019-10-16 13:12:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17550335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/malsseong/pseuds/malsseong
Summary: It’s something akin to a morbid out-of-body experience, she tells herself. That’s the only explanation.





	She burns with fury

It’s something akin to a morbid out-of-body experience, she tells herself. That’s the only explanation.

Because she is not someone who cries. And she’s certainly not someone who cries when she’s angry. She’s the kind of person who burns with fury, and turns that rage into power. She’s at her strongest when her blood is boiling and her hackles are up.

She thrives in the fire of battle, uses her acid-dipped tongue to spit deadly weapons, and glories in the high she feels as she watches her rivals retreat to nurse their wounds.  
And while Lucia is a stronger rival than most, she knows which buttons to push, and can feel the other woman’s defences weakening in the face of this burning rage.

So it’s a surprise when the room begins to spin around her, and she realises that she can’t quite seem to catch her breath between insults.  
It’s a surprise when she has to steady herself with a hand on the back of the sofa before she allows herself to drop ungraciously onto the cushions.  
It’s a real surprise when she sees small dark spots appear suddenly on the fabric of her dress and realises that they’re her own tears quickly soaking into the material.

And surprise doesn’t even come close to describing the reaction that almost makes her jump out of her fucking skin when she feels gentle fingertips skate over the back of her shoulders.

She’s a proud woman, and not one who has ever required physical comfort to soothe her wounds. So she straightens her back, wipes her tears a little too forcefully in an attempt to re-inflate her dwindling anger, and takes a fortifying breath.  
Well, she tries to take a fortifying breath, but it catches somewhere in her chest where it burns, and makes her entire body convulse in what sounds horrifyingly like a sob.

And before she knows exactly what’s happening, the sofa cushion beside her is sinking, the fingertips on her back have turned into the flat of a palm running strong strokes up and down her spine, and another hand is pressing on the back of her head as her face is guided into the side of a neck.

And then there are fingers running gently through her hair, tickling the sensitive skin behind her ear.  
And there’s a soft voice humming to her like she’s a fucking child with a grazed knee.  
And she’s confused and embarrassed, and just needs the entire spectacle to stop.  
And… Well. Her tongue has always been her best weapon.

Lucia’s gasp of surprise is just as satisfying as she’d hoped, and the fact that the humming has stopped is an utter relief.

What’s definitely less of a relief is the fact that the older woman barely pauses for a moment before she overcomes her shock and the kiss stops being one-sided.  
What’s more than a little disturbing is the way her body puts up absolutely no resistance as she’s pushed backwards in the kiss, and lowered down onto the sofa.  
And what’s, frankly, an absolute fucking horror show is the way she can’t help but moan into the other woman’s mouth as her own traitorous body arches up against the body pressing down on top of her.

And then she feels Lucia’s lips pull back as she smiles — fucking smiles — into the kiss, as though she finds this lack of control funny.  
And suddenly the anger is back, the fire is re-lit, and she once again burns for the thrill of war.

But the next moan isn’t her own. She feels it vibrate into her mouth, feels Lucia’s breath catch on the sound, and feels the way her own lips pull up into a predatory smile as she realises what’s caused the reaction.  
The fire in her chest burns hotter as she shifts her thigh slightly, pressing it further between the other woman’s legs, hoping to draw out another moan.

But instead of moaning, the blonde lets out this breathy little sigh and pulls out of the kiss, and suddenly there’s eye contact. And the predatory smirk she was expecting to see reflected on her step-mother’s lips is completely absent in favour of an embarrassed smile and a shy but hungry glance.

And suddenly, the out-of-body anger-driven sex dream she’d been burning through has turned into a genuine fucking nightmare, because, oh God. Is she having feelings ?

Her first instinct is to shove the woman off her, and flee the room in all-consuming panic. But before she has the chance, they both register the sound of a door closing and footsteps in the hallway. There’s another moment of eye contact before Lucia is springing into action, rolling to her feet, and using one hand to half-heartedly straighten her dress as the other hand pulls the brunette to her feet.

And then there’s a smirk thrown over a shoulder, a look of absolute desire that makes her knees a little week, and the next thing she knows, she’s being pulled up the stairs towards the bedrooms.

And fuck it, she thinks, because the flame in her chest is burning hotter than it ever has before. And the pressure of being in control is starting to ease for the first time in weeks.   
And… Well. Her tongue has always been her best weapon; she might as well use it.


End file.
